


The Little Eyes

by makingitwork



Series: Peter/Stiles [28]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, children perspectives, providing peter, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 09:23:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5738296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Peter through the eyes of their children</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by;
> 
> pandamonium_express who said 'Could we perhaps see how their kids see their relationship?'

Hannah is considered the cleverest of the Hale children.

When Matthew and Claudia are tearing the carpet to fluff and traipsing mud into the floor, she’s curled up in the armchair with a book. She loves reading. She loves research, and she likes helping Daddy and Grandpa with pack-related mythological things and cases, respectively. Or sometimes not respectively.

She’s got blue eyes and long sweeping brown hair and an old school girl fringe. She keeps her hair plaited back, batting away Aunt Lydia’s interfering hands. She likes it simple.

‘Oh thank god,’ Daddy murmurs, and Hannah peaks over her book ‘they’re asleep. I can only fix this carpet with my spark for so long you know, Peter. One of these days we’re going to need a new one.’

Papa rolls his eyes, and kisses Daddy’s temple. ‘I’ll take them to bed.’ And he lifts the sleeping pups up.

Daddy plonks down onto the couch and shoots her a smile ‘how’s my little buttercup?’ He asks, opening his arms and Hannah snuggles into him. Daddy always wears plaid and tight but soft jeans, and he’s very snuggly. ‘And what are you reading?’ He settles her in his lap, and frames the book over her hand ‘ah, the myths about big foot. Did you get that off daddy’s shelf? Clever girl,’ and they settle into a pattern. Hannah does love this. Daddy is the only one who gets it. The only one who understands what it’s like to have knowledge in your hands, and be absorbed by it.

They read happily for a while, until Hannah realises Daddy’s asleep, and Papa appears. She lifts her hands up. Only six years old, but Papa loves her endlessly, hauling her up onto his muscular body.

‘You hungry?’ Papa asks, Papa always provides. ‘I notice you didn’t each much for dinner. You feeling okay, pup?’

Hannah loves it when he calls her that. Because she isn’t one. But she wants to be. His pup. Their pup. She nods shyly ‘for baked beans.’ She says ‘and toast in triangles and orange squash!’

‘Squash,’ Daddy murmurs in his sleep, resuming his snores.

Papa openly stares, and Hannah looks between them.

They read her bedtime stories, and she reads them herself too. About true love, and Disney films, she knows about soul mates. She’s never seen two people more in love than her Daddy and her Papa.

‘Isn’t he beautiful?’ Papa murmurs to her, and Hannah smiles at the smell of beans. ‘My beautiful pack. My beautiful little family.’ He serves it perfectly, and they eat it at the table. Papa talking about his job, and a lot of it goes right over Hannah’s head but she likes that he treats her as a companion. As an equal. She preens under it. ‘You should get to bed too, little one,’ Papa says, and carries her easily.

She and her siblings share a room.

A _triple bunkbed._ She gets the middle one, and she’s happy about it. Surrounded by her wolves on either side. The room has a small glowing night light, and he settles her in.

‘Goodnight, Hannah Montana,’ Papa smirks, and Hannah rolls he eyes, snuggling into her pillow, and falls asleep.

…

…

…

 

Matthew grows up quickly.

Grows up _angry._

He’s got alpha power in him- a lot of it, and early. And in his teen years he rules high school and thinks he deserves the world.

He’s sixteen when he does it.

‘Matty,’ Dad frowns at him, ‘these grades…you’re better than this. I don’t mind if you’re not brilliant at maths, I wouldn’t care if you were failing every class, but you have to _try.’_

Papa and Hannah are watching, but not getting involved. Claudia is out playing basketball.

‘You can’t force me to try.’ Matthew glares, he’s texting one of his friends, sniggering meanly at the responses. Matthew’s tall, taller than his friends, going to be taller still. Muscled and imposing. He has kind features that he twists into sneers, blond hair and brown eyes. ‘In fact, you can’t force me to do anything.’

‘Like hell I can’t.’ Dad snaps, and electricity crackles around his shoulders, and Matthew scoffs at it, like he couldn’t be less impressed if he tried ‘I am your father! You’re going to get your act together, stop walking around with this inflated ego and sense of entitlement just because you’re an alpha. There are more important things-‘

‘There is nothing more important than power!’ Matthew yells, standing up; challenging.

Papa stands, eyes red, but Matthew pays him no heed. He doesn’t want to challenge the alpha. He wants to challenge the alpha mate.

‘Power is everything in the world, dad. Just because _you_ don’t have any. You’re bossed around by an alpha every day. You’d be dead without one to take care of you. Our ancestors had it right. Humans are good for nothing but mating-‘

‘Matty!’ Dad stares at him, and fire alights along his shoulders ‘don’t you dare, ever speak that way-‘

‘Matthew.’ Papa growls, voice stern and angry ‘calm the hell down.’

‘Matt,’ Hannah says quietly, but Matthew growls

‘you’re nothing, dad. You’ve achieved nothing, and you’ve never done anything-‘

Dad tempers his flames with considerable effort, and takes a deep breath ‘you are grounded for so long. For so long-‘

‘You can’t tell me what to do!’ Matthew roars, and it’s so loud, so full of anger that Dad’s spark is subdued completely. His lean father steps forwards him

‘Matty? Are you okay, son-‘

Matthew _roars_ and slams his full strength into his father, and Dad goes flying across the room, through the extension- years ago when the family was growing, they’d purchased the flat next door so they had more space, and bashes into the wall, falling lifelessly to the ground.

Matthew whimpers ‘dad?’ He chokes, horror drawing on him, tears springing to his eyes ‘daddy-‘

Papa stands before him. Half shifted. Pulsing anger, eyes beating red.

Matthew whines, eyes blue, forced to stay back as Papa and Hannah rush to Dad, who’s unresponsive on the floor.

 

‘Can we see him?’ Matthew asks after two agonising hours at the hospital. The nurse shakes her head sympathetically

‘no visitors. We don’t fully understand comas in sparks. We don’t want to risk anything. There’s so much about them we don’t know, I’m sure you understand. They’re rare. Rarer than anything. We’re doing all we can to make sure he’s okay,’

Matthew pulls away from her, yanking at his hair. _Rare._ His father, his dad, the only spark in Beacon Hills. His friends always asked about it, whenever they came round wanted to see- and when he was younger, Matthew remembers Grandpa and cousin Derek and Uncle Scott telling the most amazing stories of his Dad, _Stiles Stilinski the Spark_ and all the amazing, impossible things he had done.

He’d grown up with those stories. Those truths, and still-

Grandpa would have been so disappointed.

‘He’s the only one, you know,’ comes Claudia’s voice, and he ceases his pacing. Hannah’s asleep on the metal chairs, forehead creased with worry, and Papa is roaring at some nurses down the hall. ‘Dad, I mean. Who sticks up for you when you go and mess something up.’

Matthew stares at her; disbelieving. Because no way. Fuck that. Dad is…dad is brilliant, and clever and funny and amazing, and Matthew can’t even pass standard math class.

‘When you beat up Liam, bad.’ She bites her lip ‘dad told the school it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you, not the real you. You had to be under the effect of something. He saved you from suspension because he believed you couldn’t be a bully.’ She looks at him with the shake of her head ‘you are one, though. A horrible one.’

Matthew chokes with sadness. His wolf is whining, scratching pitifully, wanting love and acceptance and his pack mother, his father back.

‘He sees the best in you. Even when he shouldn’t. Even when Papa, Hannah and me all say that you’ve gone onto the wrong path. Lost yourself. Gone insane with alpha power, he says we’re wrong. That you’re finding yourself. That all you need is love and acceptance and the space to grow.’ She laughs bitterly ‘you proved him wrong today, Mat.’

‘I didn’t…’ he stares at her, small and lost looking, but she just shakes her head

‘If Grandpa were here.’

He bows his head.

Papa comes down the hall then, looking a little worse for wear, but accepting. ‘He’s stabilising. His vitals are looking okay. He smells better. Healthier. He just needs rest. We can’t visit him yet,’ He places his palm on Claudia’s neck, and she smiles softly, sitting beside her sister on the chairs and trying to relax. Matthew cowers under his father’s look. ‘What’s wrong, Matthew?’ He asks, voice tired but firm ‘what is this?’

 _That you’re finding yourself._ ‘I just messed up, Pa,’ he whispers, hugging himself ‘I messed up so bad, I’m so sorry- I’m so sorry. I’ll…I’m going to change, I never meant to-‘

‘A man isn’t marked by his words, Matthew.’ Papa says, ‘but by his actions. I’m not angry with you, I know what it’s like to be an alpha were-wolf growing up. I know what that sense of entitlement is like. What the rush of power is. I understand, okay?’ He touches his shoulder ‘but you need to learn the difference between right and wrong. I let Stiles take the lead on you, because he has such faith in you to be able to tell that difference. I’ve been hesitant about that part. I’m even more so now. I trust you, and I do love you, Matthew, you’re my only son, and you’re going to be the leader of a pack someday. But you have to prove yourself.’

‘I want to.’ He says desperately earnestly, and Papa nods.

‘Rest now. We don’t get to see him till later-‘

‘Where is? Is he okay?’ Uncle Scott bursts in, panting, worry etched onto his face, and Matthew hunches in on himself. Uncle Scott smells the guilt instantly, and stares at him in shock ‘Oh Matthew,’ he deflates, and looks to Papa who nods gravely, and they all sit down.

Matthew can’t sleep. He gets up, in the middle of the night, the hospital bright and quiet, and goes to his father’s room. Slips inside. He knows he shouldn’t. But he has too.

His dad is lying on the bed, in a hospital gown, one arm caged in a brace. Matthew focuses a little, before he sees the very faint golden glow over his father’s shoulders. He steps closer, and cards his fingers through his father’s soft hair.

He stirs a little, almost smiling ‘dad?’ the spark asks, and Matthew blinks away tears. ‘Oh, Matty,’ Dad says softly, half smiling, looking up at him in the dim light ‘you look like da- grandpa a bit,’ he frowns, smoothing a thumb over Matthew’s forehead ‘same creases of stress. Of worry.’

‘I’m sorry, dad,’ he whines, and the tears start to fall ‘I didn’t mean it. None of it. Any of it. I’m sorry- I’m so sorry-‘ his hands fist into his Dad’s gown as he bawls ‘I can’t believe I said that. I did that. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry-‘

‘Hey, hey,’ Dad whispers, tugging Matthew onto the bed, holding him tightly. ‘Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m fine. I know. I know,’ Matthew lays his head on his chest, cradled as though he were a child. And his dad strokes behind his ear, down his back repetitively, softly. His dad smells of home, of magic and candy floss. Of pack. ‘Look at this,’ he murmurs, and holds out his palm. He summons little pieces of light, that form into the familiar story of Little Red Riding Hood. The magic sparkles, and beautifully tells the story. Matthew watches that tiny red cloak, the little silver fragments of light, and his dad kisses his head ‘I know I’m not the most powerful. No the most impressive. And even after all this time my emotions still get the better of me and the spark, but-‘

‘No, dad,’ Matthew shakes his head ‘you are. You are powerful. And perfect. And so smart, and I’ll never be as smart as you. Claudia’s got music, Hannah’s got books, but I’ve got nothing. I’m not good at anything, and you must think I’m so stupid and just some dumb alpha jock-‘

‘Not even a little. You’re Matthew Hale, and you’re the best Lacrosse player in Beacon Hills, with amazing control over your shift. And you’ve got kindness in you, I know you do.’ Unwavering faith, and Matthew buries his face into his dad’s chest ‘and if you think I’m perfect then you should have seen me play Lacrosse. Papa didn’t even want to come to the games because I’d get creamed. I was benched most of the time. And you should have seen me with my spark at first- I set sunflowers on fire this one time Scott went missing.’ He chuckles fondly at the memories ‘things take time, Matty. Sometimes you have to work hard to be what you want to be. To change yourself. Take your time. One foot in front of the other. Breathe a little,’

‘I love you,’ Matthew sniffles ‘so much.’

…

…

…

Claudia is 12 years old.

Old enough to have a self awareness about things, and old enough to grimace at the horrificness that is twilight (but at the same time swoon over the relationships she wishes she could have)

She likes to sit in her favourite spot on the balcony, wearing shorts and a thin shirt in the freezing weather, with happy, beautiful songs playing into her headphones, swaying her head and looking at the beautiful silhouettes of buildings and the setting sun.

Sometimes she’ll text Carter. A guy she’s been in love with since she was five. She gets a obsessive and infatuated when she gets crushes (she wonders who she gets that from). ‘Claudia, sweetheart,’ Papa calls from inside ‘are you gonna eat before you go? Or will there be food there?’

She imagines there will be pizza. ‘Are you having anything?’

‘Just a sandwich.’

‘I’ll have half.’ She says and smiles as the sun shines down onto her. She’s a pre-teen who knows she has a good life, and is grateful for it. She lives in a nice, big apartment, she wears nice clothes and she has an idiot twin brother and genius twin sister. She’s a happy beta wolf, with a Spark as a parent, an Alpha as the other, an ex-sheriff as her grand father, and a good life.

She’s only twelve, but she knows love.

She stays up at night, in the bottom bunk, while her siblings sleep, her little wolf ears pricked and listening 

‘You wouldn’t believe it, Peter! Melissa’s cousin just dropping by like that! No regard for whether or not my dad and her could host her! It’s so rude! The nerve of these people, I’ll never quite believe it. My dad is stressed, you know?’

‘I know, darling,’ Peter soothes, ‘why don’t we visit them tomorrow?’

‘Okay,’ Stiles snuffles, and there’s some rustling as the two spoon happily 

‘you smell of Jason. _Again.’_

Stiles sighs ‘I had to talk to him. He’s Matthew’s teacher, Peter. Matty’s struggling.’

‘I swear he tries to get his scent on you as though it’s his life’s mission.’ Peter grumbles, and Claudia stifles her giggle. 

‘You don’t want me to go and shower now, do you?’ Stiles asks incredulously ‘I’m exhausted!’

Peter huffs, and Stiles sighs ‘couldn’t you just shift, and slobber all over me?’

Peter’s voice is tinged with interest ‘that could work.’

‘Well do it then, ya big mutt.’

‘Prat.’

‘Idiot.’

A wet lick makes Stiles shiver 

‘Wolfie,’ he mumbles, and Claudia listens to them both fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt and comment my gorgeous friends 
> 
> x


End file.
